


After Hours

by lunchtop



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 01:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21401911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunchtop/pseuds/lunchtop
Summary: When Crowley invited Aziraphale to stay the night, he honestly expected the angel to turn him down. That had been the pattern, for the last several decades, and just because Crowley kept offering and asking and inviting, didn’t mean he had any real hope that his angel would go along with any of his suggestions. Especially after Aziraphale snubbed both of his requests, to flee from the end of the world together. Once bitten, twice shy. Without the shy bit, of course; demons weren’t shy.So he was surprised, when Aziraphale agreed.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 145





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> [This tweet](https://twitter.com/neilhimself/status/1192080635109793793) from Neil Gaiman gave me the little kick in the pants I needed to finish this fluffy one-shot that I started way back when the series premiered. 
> 
> Here's a link to the song they listen to: [After Hours by The Velvet Underground](https://open.spotify.com/track/2nWspfDCybeA2NamQG6CCq?si=M5obP60iTtSuSZKmvfcKAw). For those of you who like to listen to bee bop ;)

When Crowley invited Aziraphale to stay the night, he honestly expected the angel to turn him down. That had been the pattern, for the last several decades, and just because Crowley kept offering and asking and inviting, didn’t mean he had any real hope that his angel would go along with any of his suggestions.  _ Especially  _ after Aziraphale snubbed both of his requests, to flee from the end of the world together. Once bitten, twice shy. Without the shy bit, of course; demons weren’t  _ shy _ .

So he was surprised, when Aziraphale  _ agreed _ . After minimal coaxing. 

Amazed, when he climbed into Crowley’s bed with him, accepting the flimsy excuse of,  _ well, there’s only  _ ** _one _ ** _ bed, and  _ ** _two _ ** _ of us; doesn’t leave us with a lot of options, does it? _ , with a cute little shrug, and not so much as a second thought. Neither of them needed to sleep, really. It was nice, relaxing, but not necessary. Aziraphale could have just as easily passed on sleeping entirely, if he didn’t like the idea of sharing a bed with a demon.

It was like a dream come true, when, after a mere twenty minutes of laying next to each other in the quiet darkness, Crowley felt Aziraphale shifting on the bed next to him. Shifting  _ closer _ , and it was only a matter of time before the two of them were completely wrapped up in one another. Legs tangled together, Aziraphale’s head tucked under Crowley’s chin, chest-to-chest. Crowley couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortably warm.

That dream quickly turned into a nightmare, in which Aziraphale wouldn’t stop babbling long enough for either of them to fall asleep. Mostly, it seemed, to come up with any excuse to explain away the fact that they were, in fact, cuddling.

“-and if we really are going to switch appearances, I need to know your body a little better.” The comment was followed by a soft, warm hand, creeping slowly up and down Crowley’s back, with hardly any pressure. Just enough to remind him that it was there.

“S’a good point, I suppose.” It  _ was _ , but it was also difficult not to feel bitter about it. He didn’t need to get to know Aziraphale’s body, to better impersonate him. Crowley had six thousand years of experience, century after century of unrequited love and affection, to fall back on. He could impersonate Aziraphale’s appearance in a heartbeat, no rehearsal necessary.

“ _ You _ might not be worried about it,” Aziraphale continued, and for a second, Crowley was worried that the angel had read his mind. “You have a lot more practice, with changing your shape. But  _ I’ve  _ hardly bothered with it, after all these years. Just got comfortable, I guess. I’ve always liked this body, it feels like home.”

Crowley made a noncommittal noise. Yeah, Aziraphale was really good at that. Making himself comfortable. In Crowley’s life, in Crowley’s  _ bed _ . Just weaseling his way in, making himself at home, never mind how having him so close and  _ still  _ not being allowed to so much as nuzzle at that soft, pale hair was slowly driving Crowley mad-

“And- well. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hold you so  _ badly _ , as I do right now.”

_ Oh? _

Crowley wasn’t sure which part of that he wanted to focus on; the fact that Aziraphale had just admitted to wanting to hold onto him, or the implication that the desire to do so wasn’t a new one. Oddly enough, it was hard to focus on much of anything other than the silence surrounding them, now that the angel in his bed had finally stopped talking. 

Crowley had lived alone for…  _ forever _ , really. He was used to the quiet; it wasn’t always pleasant, but it was familiar. Funny, how the silence felt so oppressive now, in the same old apartment, even though nothing had changed-

Except everything  _ had  _ changed, hadn’t it? Or at the very least, what had been there all along was bubbling to the surface and refusing to be ignored.

“Is that so, angel?” Teasing Aziraphale was another thing that felt comfortable, the same way the quiet apartment did. “You want to hold me?”

A few more moments of silence, and Crowley started to feel a horrible tension settle into his bones, when Aziraphale mumbled a very quiet, “Of course I do.”

“It’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

Aziraphale let out a short, exasperated sigh. The only downside to their current position, Crowley realized, was that he was missing whatever delightfully flustered expression he was making; Aziraphale pressed his face into the space between Crowley’s neck and shoulder, as if to better hide it. It must have been a pout, how  _ endearing- _

“Don’t be like that,” he said, interrupting Crowley’s thoughts, his tone letting the demon know that yes, he was almost certainly pouting.

“Like what?”

“Like that! Acting like you don’t know how much I want you.”

When Crowley began to shift, Aziraphale’s grip on him only tightened; all four limbs clung to him, as if the angel feared he was trying to get away. Crowley couldn’t help laughing at the thought -  _ him _ , trying to get away from  _ this  _ \- as he gathered his angel up in his arms, keeping him close, until he was re-settled on his back, with Aziraphale’s head resting on his chest. 

He felt Aziraphale relaxing in his arms, almost like he was melting. Crowley let his hands rest on his hips, fingers splayed out to touch as much of Aziraphale as possible. Even through thick, flannel fabric of the tartan pajamas that the angel had miracled for himself, Crowley could feel how soft and supple the body underneath was.

Crowley’ wasn’t the only one doing a little bit of exploring, he realized, when he felt Aziraphale’s own hands wandering up his sides. One managed to slip under his loose-fitted shirt, and Crowley had to bite down on his bottom lip, to keep himself from letting out what no doubt would have been the most embarrassing noise ever uttered, while Azripahale’s fingers made their way up his side, slowly and deliberately. Crowley hoped, somehow, they would leave little fingerprints in their wake; a reminder of exactly where the angel touched him.

“I’ve wanted to do this since 1941,” Aziraphale’s voice was so quiet that, if they weren’t pressed right up against each other, Crowley wouldn’t have heard him say it at all. “Probably even longer, if I’m being honest-”

“I wanted you in the garden.”

It wasn’t until Aziraphale went completely still in his arms, his fingers halting their climb up the staircase of his ribs, his breathing stopping entirely, that Crowley realized he’d said that aloud. Oh,  _ fuck _ , he just had to go and run his mouth, didn’t he? He just had to get caught up in the moment and ruin the only thing he’d ever truly wanted for himself before he even really had it-

But, instead of clamoring out of bed, Aziraphale propped himself up on his elbows, and-

_ Oh _ .

Crowley couldn’t  _ sense  _ love, the way an angel could, but for a moment he wondered if he _could_, because that warm, almost-too-heavy, bubbly, terrible, wonderful feeling was  _ radiating  _ off of Aziraphale, and it couldn’t be anything else. It was stifling, but comforting. Powerful, but gentle. It was all blue eyes and fluffy, messy white hair, and a soft, tentative smile, and it was all for  _ him.  _ It was a hand on each of his cheeks, thumbs sliding back and forth across his cheekbones as that loving, smiling face moved closer, closer-

And then they were kissing.

It was chaste, all things considered; barely-parted lips gliding together with hardly any pressure or urgency. Crowley needed every ounce of self-control he had not to push it, not to reach out and take the thing he’d spent the last six thousand years yearning for, now that it was right in front of him. 

He didn’t  _ need  _ to take it, he realized, when Aziraphale swept his tongue across Crowley’s bottom lip with a little sound that could only be described as desperate. It was his. They were each other's, their own side. This, if the switch went according to plan, was their new forever, and Crowley could take his time and revel in it.

Crowley snapped his fingers. There was no point in keeping track of a remote, when he could manage turning the stereo on and off just fine on his own, the old fashioned way; demonic magic. There was a soft, barely audible countdown, before the gentle sound began to spill from the speakers.

__ If you close the door  
__ The night could last forever  
__ Leave the sunshine out  
_ And say hello to never _ __   
  


_ All the people are dancing  
_ _ And they're having such fun- _

Aziraphale pulled away, just enough for Crowley to fully appreciate the absolutely delighted look on his face. “Mood music? A little sappy for a demon, isn’t it?”

“You don’t like it?”

“I never said that, darling.”

_ Darling _ . Now that was sappy, but Aziraphale’s mouth was back on his, before Crowley could point that out. No, as much fun as teasing and bickering was, Crowley much preferred kissing, now that he was allowed it. Kissing, and touching, and anything else his angel ( _ his angel! _ ) would let him get away with.

__ Cause if you close the door  
__ I'd never have to see the day again  
I __ 'd never have to see the day again,  
_ Once more-  
_ _ I'd never have to see the day again _ __ .

By the end of the night, neither of them had managed to get the good night’s rest they’d originally intended to have, but Crowley did find out that, despite his previous assertion that he knew Aziraphale’s body well enough to impersonate him flawlessly, there were still countless little details to acquaint himself with.

And, if all went according to plan, he would have plenty of time to do exactly that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I know it's been a long time since I've posted anything. Between graduate school sucking up so much of my free time and energy, a few personal things that I won't get into here, and the horrible way VLD ended, it's been really, really hard for me to get into fic writing again. For a long time it felt like my inspiration was squashed completely, and I was feeling really hopeless.
> 
> Thankfully, I think I'm starting to come out of that fog. I've been having a lot of fun plotting stuff for Good Omens, and I have a few HP ideas I'd like to flesh out and write up, too. I hope that someday I can finish my VLD WIPs, I know some folks are waiting to see what happens. Those characters are still very dear to my heart, and I want to see those stories through to the end if I can.
> 
> ANYWAY, thanks again for reading my work. I appreciate all of the hits, kudos, and comments, you're all lovely.


End file.
